“Longbourn”, by Jo Baker

 

352 pages, Alfred A. Knopf, ISBN-13: 978-0385351232

I just can’t shake those Bennets, can I? First there was the original work, the Divine Jane’s Pride and Prejudice (reviewed on May 24^th, 2021); then I read Death Comes to Pemberley (reviewed on July 21^st, 2025) which followed Elizabeth and Darcy as a murder occurred on their estate; and now I have discovered Longbourn by Jo Baker which, changing things up a bit, follows the lives of those below stairs at the Bennet homestead. Who I hear you ask? Well: Sarah, the principle maid and focus of the book; Mrs. Hill the housekeeper and her husband, Mr. Hill, the man about the house; Polly, the young maid; and James, the new groomsman. We also have Ptolemy Bingley, one of the servants from Netherfield who is also half-black, the product of Bingley Sr. and his dalliance with one of his slaves in the West Indies.

The best thing I can say about Longbourn is that it is respectful towards the source material. The Bennet girls are portrayed just as Jane wrote them (except for Mary, who is shown in a rather more sympathetic light as the forgotten, middle sister). And everyone else is written as Jane had, except for Mr. Collins and Mr. Darcy; Collins is, like Mary, shown sympathetically, while Darcy blunders in and out of rooms without so much as glancing at the help – which is, I think, to be expected of a Great Man who can’t be bothered to even acknowledge his underlings. And this is the great strength of Longbourn, as we see already familiar scenes from P&P acted out once more from a different, lower angle, but still in the manner in which Jane wrote them. Baker manages to add to the original tale without subtracting or degrading it in anyway.

Well…except for one instance, where Baker states explicitly that Bingley’s source of wealth comes from Triangular Trade; that is, arms, textiles and wine shipped from Europe to Africa, enslaved people from Africa to the Americas and sugar and coffee from the Americas to Europe. Nowhere in P&P does Jane state explicitly where Bingley’s £5000 a year comes from, so for Baker to take it upon herself to supply the answer smacks of arrogance, to say nothing of disrespect towards Austen. Also, to give Bingley a half-black half-brother as a servant at Netherfield Park is just…mean; I mean, Ptolemy Bingley is not mentioned at all in P&P, although not every backdrop character is given a name, to be sure; but Jane says nothing about a mulatto (to use the contemporary phraseology) and certainly says nothing about a half-brother to the Bingleys.

Also, when James’ back history is filled out in the last third of the book we discover something shady about one of Jane’s characters, and it is not at all flattering. Disheartening, in fact, and totally out of character for the person in question, as Jane presented them to be. I’m dancing around the issue because I don’t want to give the game away, but Baker did a real disservice to this person and, worse, rewrote them to such a degree that I doubt that Jane would recognize the character that she herself had brought forth. Perhaps she wanted to deflate this person and bring them down to earth by showing them to be human, warts and all. But it seemed forced and only works if one disregards what Jane wrote, which is not only blasphemous but impossible. A low mark on an otherwise excellent reimagining of a masterpiece.

But these, really, are my only complaints with Longbourn. Baker does a wonderful job in fleshing out these background characters and breathing life into what were, to these Great Men and Women of the land, merely parts of the household to be moved about like chess pieces and discarded just as easily. To see P&P once more brought back to life from a different angle was nothing less than joyful as I was able to relive this beloved masterpiece of English literature, but through different eyes. And I cannot stress this enough: it is obvious that Baker respects P&P and sought to honor this original work by preserving what Jane wrote while adding her own spin on characters that Austen didn’t have the inclination (I imagine) to flesh out. Jane’s focus was on the daughters of this minor-league squire, but their lives would have been impossible but for the servants of Longbourn that made their living so easy.

And what vividly realized, fleshed-out characters, too. Sarah has dreams of independence that are all but impossible for an orphan with just a little education. James wants only to live out his life in a little comfort and away from the prying eyes of the world. The Hills live from day-to-day as the minor lordships of a household that was kind enough to take them in. Polly could have done worse (and would have) if not for the Bennet’s, and Ptolemy dreams his dreams of freedom – and his very own tobacconist shop. No cardboard cutouts here; these are actualized people with recognizable aspirations and all-too realistic roadblocks in their lives, roadblocks put up through no actions of their own. It’s easy to imagine that Sarah, James, the Hills, Polly and Ptolemy were real and that Baker merely transcribed their lives into her book.

Longbourn, then, is a (mostly) respectful homage to one of the most beloved novels in the English language that manages to add to the original work while simultaneously honoring the same. A rare feat that should be respected and rewarded.